Fangirls of DOOOM!
by Kelida Johnson
Summary: Frodo thought he had escaped them forever -- he was wrong!
1. Chapter the First

Frodo was at the beach sitting in his striped beach chair wearing his sunglasses. He was wearing white shorts and a blue t-shirt and sipping a glass of lemonade. Now this was the life! No crazed quest to save the world, no abysmal ring weighing him down and none of _Them_. Finally it was all over and he could get some quality vacation time, he had definitely earned it. Perfectly relaxed, he leaned back in the chair trying to ignore an uncomfortable feeling that wouldn't go away. Trying to reason with himself didn't work so he took a deep breath then sighed.

"I will turn around to check, then find out my doubts were completely unfounded," he muttered to himself under his breath. Frodo turned his head and saw nothing… except some distant blur he couldn't quite distinguish. Sitting up, he lifted up his sunglasses to find out what it was. Suddenly his face turned white as his jaw dropped open and he started running as fast as he could, churning the sand wildly with his feet.

It was _Them_…the fangirls.

Frodo finally reached Gandalf's house and, desperately hoping that Gandalf was home, he started pounding on the door while keeping an eye open for his pursuers. A few seconds later, an irate Gandalf opened the door and glared at him. His hat was set rakishly on his head, his robes looked wrinkled and he was in a decidedly bad mood. Frodo just stood there, staring at the fluffy pink bunny slippers on Gandalf's feet.

"There had better be a good reason for waking me up, Frodo Baggins!" Gandalf said gruffly, jolting Frodo back into reality. Frodo clutched onto Gandalf, trying to shield himself from the view of anyone outside.

"G-g-g-gandalf, they're here! Save me, you can't let them get m-m-m-meeeee!" Frodo cried desperately.

"You mean _They_? Get inside quick, we'll have to bar the door and the window." Gandalf replied, shoving Frodo through the door and closing it behind him. Then Gandalf started dragging heavy furniture in front of the doors while Frodo locked the window and nailed some boards of wood to the frame.

Then Frodo took over blocking the doorway while Gandalf paced the room, trying to think up a plan. "Hmmm, what to do… can't block the pass, don't have an army…" he muttered to himself, then he straightened up and raised his arm in the air. "I've got it Frodo! It will be perilous and may not succeed, but it's our only chance against this kind of enemy. Quick, come over here and I'll tell you!" Then Gandalf stooped over and whispered the plan in Frodo's ear.

"WHAAAAAAAT! That's the worst plan EVER, no WAY am I doing _that_!" Frodo yelled.

"It's the only way." Gandalf replied soberly. After several moments of agonizing Frodo sighed, looking like he was heading to his own execution.

"Fine."

If Frodo had noticed the slight smile hidden in Gandalf's beard, he would have slugged him.

_To be continued…_


	2. Chapter the Second: High heels suck!

**AN: Thanks to all those that reviewed my story: pickles12, DRUNKEN LANDLORD and Anawey. Yes, I did post the same chapter twice but the lovely Ann Riddle was able to help me out with that 'technical difficulty'. If you have any suggestions for my story, please tell me!**

**Here's chapter two, enjoy!**

§

"This is the stupidest thing I have ever done in my life!" Frodo cried from behind a screen.

Gandalf, peering out through a crack between the boards covering the window, turned and said, "I'd give you about 5 minutes until they get here, hurry up! Come on out and let me see your disguise."

Sighing forlornly, Frodo stepped out from behind the screen while Gandalf tried hard not to laugh. Frodo's hair was clipped back with butterfly hair clips and he wore a pair of sleek, feminine sunglasses. He wore a silky sky-blue tank top with sequins and two coconut halves were strapped onto his chest. The eyeshadow matched the shirt and he had put on berry lip-gloss and mascara. Three-inch black pumps and nylons complemented a black embroidered mini-skirt.

"Well," Gandalf coughed as he tried to suppress his laughter, "not bad, eh? And you said I wouldn't be able to conjure up any decent girl clothes. I'll set up the distraction, you better get away fast because I won't be able to hold it for that long. Out, out!"

Gandalf waved his hands in the air and mumbled words under his breath in the direction of the window and suddenly Legolas appeared… or at least, an illusion of Legolas. As every fangirl stared, the illusionary Legolas ran off and half of the fangirls followed screaming, yelling and shrieking at the top of their lungs. During the mayhem, Frodo took off the boards on the window, climbed and mingled in the throng. As all the rest of the fangirls ran up to Gandalf's house, Frodo ran with them until he tripped in the high-heels. As he bent down to fix the shoe, part of his sunglasses slipped and a nearby fangirl got a glance at his blue eyes.

"His eyes are so BLUE!" she shrieked, fainting to the ground. Suddenly the group of fangirls turned to look at Frodo who had just finished fixing the shoe in time to hear the shriek. All the fangirls looked down at his feet and stared at his curly-haired hobbit feet.

"IT'S FRODO!" they yelled and started to run after him. Cursing high-heels, Frodo took off, stumbling as he ran over the rough terrain. As he looked behind, Frodo saw another group of fangirls approaching, Legolas running at the front of the pack. Soon Legolas and Frodo were side by side, Frodo hopping along as he tried to take off the shoes. "Another group after you, Legolas?" Frodo yelled, throwing the high-heels he had finally gotten off behind him.

Showing him a lock of hair shorter than the rest, Legolas tearfully replied, "They cut my hair! My HAIR!" Frodo, as well as he could while running, patted Legolas sympathetically on the back.

They started running up a hill when suddenly Frodo tripped on a tree root and collided with Legolas, sending them both rolling down the hill. As they rolled over rocks and debris, they exclaimed in pain until they finally reached the bottom. After everything had stopped spinning, Legolas sat up and cupped his hand to his ear.

"The coast is clear!" he said as he started to pick the leaves and twigs out of his hair while muttering about clumsy hobbits and tree roots.

"I'm not so sure about that," Frodo said warily. "Come on, we're close to Aragorn and Arwen's place. It should be about five minutes away." As Legolas stood up he stopped, looked at Frodo and started laughing.

"WHAT!"

"I just realized –haha–, you're dressed –hahaha– like a girl! I –heehee– always knew you had –haha– a feminine side. And there are leaves –giggle– stuck in your coconuts!" He said, leaning on a tree stump.

"Shut UP!" Frodo yelled, turning red. Legolas stood up and they started walking but Legolas struggled to keep his face straight.

"I like your –snicker– butterfly clips!" Frodo curled his hands into fists and kept them by his sides, fuming.

_To be continued…_


	3. Chapter the Third: Arwen can be SCARY

**AN: All I can say is a big thank-you to my reviewers. I have rocked someone's socks and that is awesome! If you read my story, please review it:P**

Finally Legolas and Frodo reached Aragorn and Arwen's house, medium-sized and well tended. After all the palaces they had lived in they had decided to live in a plain old house and that's what it was. Frodo walked up and knocked and after a few seconds Aragorn opened the door.

"Hey Legolas and Fr…" he said, talking to Legolas then stopping as he turned to see Frodo. After a few seconds, Aragorn burst out laughing and Legolas started laughing with him.

Wiping tears from his eyes, Aragorn turned to Legolas and said, "And I thought _you_ were the feminine one!" They laughed together for a few more minutes until Legolas paused, realizing Aragorn had called him feminine. A few seconds later he continued laughing at Frodo with Aragorn. "Coconuts?" Aragorn asked, trying not to fall over laughing. Then Legolas whispered in his ear and they started laughing even louder, if that were possible.

"Aragorn, who is it?" Arwen asked, stepping into the doorway. "Oh, welcome Legolas and Frodo." She looked over at Aragorn and Legolas then turned to Frodo and noticed his clothes, by this time he was as red as a tomato. "Come on in," Arwen said, not even cracking a smile. "I can get some clothes for you inside."

Aragorn, Legolas and Frodo all sat inside at the table talking. Frodo was wearing a pair of Aragorn's old clothes… except modified. Even with the pant legs almost half cut off, Frodo still had to wore a rope for a belt and his arms were lost in the remaining fabric of the shirt sleeves. The clothes were extremely baggy and every now and again Aragorn or Legolas would look at him and give a little chuckle. Then Arwen came down the stairs holding a pair of clothes and walked into the kitchen.

"Here Frodo, I found a pair of clothes you left behind up in the guest room." She said, handing the clothes to Frodo. They were a little dusty and smelled sort of funny but a set of clothes had never looked so good to Frodo before.

"Thank you!" he exclaimed, getting down on one knee before heading over to the bathroom. A few minutes later he came out wearing his clothes and feeling a lot better. He sat back down at the table with everyone else but then all the guys sitting at the table froze. They could hear the undeniable sounds of…

"The fangirls are back!" Frodo cried, standing up. Aragorn and Legolas stood up too and glanced anxiously out the window to see the approaching horde.

"Legolas, you can see better than we can. How many are there?" Aragorn asked nervously.

"Too many!" Legolas replied after taking a close look. "Know any good spots to hide?"

"There's a good one out back along a seldom-used trail. Quick, let's go!" Aragorn said as he walked towards the back door, buckling on his sword belt.

"Wait a minute!" Arwen yelled, standing up with an exasperated look on her face and her hands on her hips. "You're telling me the leader of the final battle against Mordor isn't going to face a bunch of fangirls? My husband isn't brave enough to face a few teenage girls!

"There's just too many of them! I'd take orcs over fangirls any day of the week, with orcs you can kill them and be done with them. But you're not allowed to kill fangirls and if you manage to knock one fangirl out of action a dozen more appear!" Aragorn exclaimed, fiddling with the hilt of his sword nervously.

"But you're _scared_ of them?" Arwen demanded with disbelief.

"They cling to you and won't let go, they try to steal your weapons and it doesn't stop there. All of them flirting with you at the same time: proclamations of undying love, girls swearing that they're your soulmate, demands for a marriage…"

Arwen turned so red as she listened to Aragorn that he stopped talking and all the men cowered at the look on her face.

"No one, absolutely NO ONE, is going to flirt with _MY_ HUSBAND AND GET AWAY WITH IT!" She yelled, swiping a gigantic sword off of the plaque on the wall before stomping out the front door and heading towards the approaching horde of fangirls. Aragorn, Legolas and Frodo stood there for about a minute with their jaws gaping wide open as they watched her. Then they shut their mouths and retreat out the back door.


	4. Chapter 4: Beer

After leaving Aragorn's house and tramping along a path filled with thistles and briars, Aragorn and company came to a large dilapidated building with dirty windows. The sign mounted by the door was illegible and raucous noises came from inside. Not only was there a lot of noise but there was also a _smell _about it, mysterious yet familiar. Frodo and Legolas looked at Aragorn in disbelief.

"_THIS_ is our hiding place? To _you_ it might smell bad but with my delicate elven sense of smell I feel like puking!" Legolas said scornfully, losing his look of dignity as he clamped his hand over his nose.

"This, my friends, is the reason I agreed to build my house here. Come on in!" Aragorn replied as he walked inside.

§ 

"_The Man in the Moon was drinking deep,_

_And the cat began to wail;_

_A dish and a spoon on the table danced…"_

Inside a crowded smoky, dim-lit room, Pippin was singing and dancing drunkenly on a table while holding a pint of beer. As he kept drinking his singing got worse and worse as he cavorted around, almost falling off the table. Then Merry shoved him and Pippin actually did fall, landing on the floor.

"What was that for!" demanded Pippin, once he managed to struggle back onto a chair.

"I had to get your attention _somehow_," said Merry dryly. "Otherwise you would never have noticed." He pointed towards the door and finally Pippin realized what Merry was talking about.

"Aragorn, Frodo and Legolas: welcome to our humble establishment!" He exclaimed. "Let's have a toast!" Pippin stood up and raised his mug up for the toast and as he gulped down his beer his chair flipped over and he fell back onto the floor.

"A toast, I'll drink to that!" Aragorn exclaimed, then he headed over to grab a giant mug, pour himself some beer and sat down next to Merry. Clinking their mugs together, Merry and Aragorn each took a huge gulp.

"Aragorn, didn't Arwen forbid you from going near a bar ever again after last time?" asked Frodo curiously.

"THIS is an extraordinary situation," he answered morosely, thumping his mug on the table. "Have a beer!" Frodo came over almost immediately to accept the mug proffered by Merry. It had been a _HORRIBLE _day and he needed something to make up for it or else something to make him forget the entire thing. Beer was the answer to both. After trying to take away Aragorn's mug and getting smacked in the face, Legolas turned around and left.

"Spoilsport! I guess we'll have to drink to his health for him," Aragorn said and everybody in the bar cheered.

"TO LEGOLAS!" they exclaimed in unison.

A few minutes later, Legolas walked back into the bar with a new accessory: a clothespin on his nose. Merry, Pippin, Frodo and Aragorn cheered as he sat down at their table but Legolas shoved away the mug put in front of him. Shrugging their shoulders, everyone went back to their drinks. As Pippin went back to singing, starting from the beginning of the song, the others at the table (except surly Legolas) all joined in:

"_There is an inn, a merry old inn_

_beneath an old grey hill, _

_And there they brew a beer so brown_

_That the Man in the Moon himself came down_

_one night to drink his fill._

_The ostler has a tipsy cat_

_That plays a five-stri…"_

Pippin kept singing by himself until he noticed the looks of horror on the faces of his companions. As he fell quiet he could hear an ominous sound despite the noise from coming from the other occupants of the bar. While everyone else at the table started to get ready to run, Pippin filled up his mug and drank as fast as he could.

"Come on Pip! They're almost here!" yelled panicked Merry, dragging Pippin out the door to follow the rest of their fleeing friends.

"If I'm going to encounter fangirls," replied Pippin in a serious voice, "I'm going to be as drunk as possible so I can't remember a THING!" As they rejoined the rest of their companions, Pippin kept chugging his beer.

"Where can we run _now_!" exclaimed Frodo, wishing very strongly he'd never gotten out of bed that morning.

"Somewhere where you guys can get a BATH!" exclaimed Legolas, the clothespin still on his noise.

"There's a lake nearby, good a place as any to hide. Follow me!" Aragorn declared.

§

Arwen stood on one side of a river, a gigantic sword in one hand and a murderous look in her eyes. The river seperated her from the horde of approaching fangirls and as the fangirls reached the river Arwen readied for battle.

"Nobody's getting across, so head on back home! Aragorn's MINE!" she yelled, swinging her blade in the air. The fangirls replied with catcalls as they continued across the river but Arwen whispered under her breath and the waves began to rise, the crests forming into the shape of charging horses.

"You cheater!" some of them shrieked, struggling against the force of the waves. Arwen turned and stalked away as the fangirls were swept down the river behind her, smirking in triumph.

§

"This isn't a lake, it joins up with a river!" criticized Legolas. Meanwhile everyone else had abandoned their clothes on the beach and ran into the water wearing their underwear. Then Aragorn used both hands to gather up water and completely drenched him. Legolas stood there, his hair plastered to his skull, fuming. Then he tossed his bow and arrows on the beach, stripped down and came running in to get his revenge. Eventually Aragorn and Legolas teamed up against the hobbits and a vicious skirmish began, the splashing and the yelling scaring away most of the local wildlife. The noise was so loud that they didn't notice until it was too late…

"Oh my goodness, look at Aragorn's _CHEST_!" yelled a female voice.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" yelled Aragorn, Legolas, Frodo and Merry. (Pippin, however, was still rather drunk and he yelled "Sandwichs!")The fangirls had drifted down the river and now they were trapped… without their clothes. As the fangirls approached, they consulted desperately hoping to come up with a plan of action.

"I think… we'll have to run up the beach." Merry said tearfully, resigned to their only chance of escape. Everyone of them, even the still-drunken Pippin, closed their eyes as they shivered in horror. Then they ran towards shore, desperately plugging their ears to block out the whistles, shrieks and catcalls. With the fangirls gaining fast, they could only grab their clothes and keep running.

§

Meanwhile Arwen trekked through the forest back home, her sword swinging at her side. But then she noticed the fleeing wildlife and the sounds of an approaching mob, coming this way! Looking along the path to make sure noone saw her, Arwen ducked behind a nearby tree to hide… and bumped into someone else! Drawing her sword, she turned around to face whoever else was lurking there. But when she turned around, she discovered Eowyn with _her_ drawn sword.

"Eowyn, what a strange meeting! But it's definitely nice to see you again, how are you and Faramir doing?" Arwen asked, lowering her sword and hugging Eowyn.

"We're doing quite well, besides fangirl problems. We'll have to invite you and Aragorn to visit." Eowyn replied, hugging her back. They would have continued their conversation except for one small detail. When they had drawn their swords, they had left their hiding place and come into plain view. Come into plain view right as the mob had arrived.

"WOW! Arwen AND Eowyn, we've hit the jackpot!"

A mob of fan_boys_!

§

Aragorn and company were still running but thankfully they had had an oppurtunity to put on their clothes. Their only problem was how to shake off the ever-present fangirls! Legolas was at the front of the group so he was the first one to stop in his tracks… and have all those following slam into him. After picking themselves off of the ground, Legolas pointed out what he had seen: a looming mountain.

"Think we could make it?" Legolas asked Aragorn.

"Hey, am I the only one experiencing some really creepy déja vu here!" exclaimed Pippin. Everyone sobered at those words: they knew what he was talking about. Then the (relative) silence was broken by Aragorn.

"It's our only hope," Aragorn replied grimly. "Come on."

§

Instinctively, Eowyn and Arwen stood beside each other against the approaching fanboys. The fans grew closer and closer, like a group of circling sharks, and both Eowyn and Arwen knew they needed a plan of action: fast! As the crowd drew nearer and nearer, Eowyn and Arwen nodded at each other and stood back-to-back, whipping out their blades in the midst of the yells of admiration and proffered courtship.

"Get back or we won't be responsible for what happens!" Arwen hollered.

"I helped take care of the witch-king, you don't stand a chance!" Eowyn yelled, joining in. The noise of the fans grew louder and louder, not one of them backing down. Finally they reached striking distance and Eowyn and Arwen became the centre of swirling blades cutting through the ranks. But even as they cut down the pressing fans more and more seemed to keep coming…

§

Once they finally reached the mountain it seemed far more ominous than it had before. The shadow seemed to loom over and it took a few minutes before Aragorn took the lead. When they reached the doors they were relieved to notice the lack of a lake as well as a set of slightly open doors. After heaving and hauling at one side of the stone door they were able to enlarge the opening enough for them all to sleep inside sideways… except Pippin, the first one in line, who had a little trouble trying to fit his mug through.

"Hey, how did you manage to actually keep your mug as we were running away in nothing but our underwear?" asked a puzzled Merry.

"Desperation," Pippin replied before squeezing through the hole to the other side. The rest of the group looked at each other and shrugged, then followed him in. Once they reached the other side, they found themselves in pitch darkness. Then Pippin bumped into a wall and a torch fell down from a wall bracket. Merry was able to light it with the flint and tinder in his pocket so they continued until they came to a fork in the road. But then…

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" screamed Pippin.

* * *

_Duuuh-duuuuuuuh-duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh. _

Please review? Pretty please?


	5. Chapter 5: Of Statues and Things

AN: Hey everybody! Um… yes, very bad for updates. BUT I am now giving you 2 chapters AT THE SAME TIME to make up for it. Plus I was reaaaaaallly bored one day at college.

For those people that reviewed me

**Pickles and Ann**: I can always count on you. evil grin Man, we need to find someone else to kidnap, that was FUN!

**Raven**:You follow Pippin's psychology very accurately! If it's bad: get drunk. If it's good: get drunk. If it's great… yep, get drunk.

**Lupin-Black**: In real-life yes, alcohol-poisoning is seriously crazy. It's a case of "don't do this at home, kids!" plus Pippin is in the afterlife... sorta...

Oh ya. Don't sue me. Nothing here is mine… besides my extrapolation on LotR personalities. Once again you may all thank Ann for pestering me enough to produce updates.

* * *

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" screamed Pippin. "This place is Moria!" Everybody else had already figured this out so all they did was roll their eyes.

"You screamed because of _that_!" Aragorn exclaimed, exasperated at Pippin as he replaced his sword in his scabbard.

"Except last time there was the lake with the guardian. And none of these ugly-looking statues…" Pippin muttered, lapsing into a conversation with his mug about statues going about scaring hobbits.

Aragorn turned back to resume his position at the front of the group… until Pippin's words sunk in.

"What ugly statues?" Aragorn asked, sliding out his sword and assuming a defensive position.

"That one," Pippin replied, his voice echoing inside his mug, as he pointed to a corner of the room. Aragorn turned to face the direction Pippin had pointed to… and saw nothing but footprints on the dusty floor. Quickly Aragorn motioned to Legolas and showed him the tracks left behind. As Legolas took out an arrow from his quiver and Aragorn followed the path of the tracks, a figure emerged from the shadows…

"BOOOOOOOOOO!"

Aragorn and Legolas jumped up in surprise, then whirled around with weapons at the ready. Spotting the figure still half-hidden in the shadows near Merry, Legolas cocked the arrow to his bow and followed Aragorn as he cautiously approached. Merry, on the other hand, leaned against the wall and lit his pipe nonchalantly. Merry put the pipe in his mouth and observed the expressions on his friends faces (the ones who weren't trying to get the last drops of ale out of their mugs, that is) as the figure ended up standing right behind him.

"What?"

§

Arwen and Eowyn looked around… and finally found that all of the fanboys had been knocked out. They were quite relieved since hitting them with only the flat of their blades had been getting increasingly difficult.

"Some of them had such thick skulls!" exclaimed Eowyn, panting.

"Most men do." Replied Arwen and both women shared a smirk. As Arwen walked over to lean against a tree, a fanboy groggily raised his head as she went past. Withou hesitation she kicked him in the head and kept going as his head sunk back into the grass.

"We better get out of here before we have to start all over again." Mused Eowyn, leaning on her sword. Neither of them changed position for a few minutes, then Eowyn tiredly sheathed her sword. Arwen followed suite and walked over to Eowyn, stepping over the prone bodies.

"I guess you're right. So where to?" Arwen asked, walking beside Eowyn along a battered path.

"Let's go over to my place. We can meet up with Faramir and take a break before going to get those helpless men."

§

As stunned Aragorn and Legolas looked on, Merry went through his jacket and retrieved his spare pipe. After putting in some pipeweed he nonchalantly passed it to the figure looming behind him. Giving a satisfied grunt, the figure stepped forward and sat down beside him. Out of the shadows, Aragorn and Legolas realized he was actually quite short for a mysterious hooded stranger. Taking out a match, Merry passed it over and the stranger took off his hood to light his pipe properly.

"Gimli!" Aragorn and Legolas exclaimed before sheepishly putting away their weapons. Coming forward they took turns thumping Gimli on the back although Gimli's returning thump left Legolas absolutely breathless. He retreated to wheeze a few feet away in a corner while Aragorn and Gimli continued talking to each other. Then Pippin walked up, weaving quite a bit, to see what was going on.

"Statue!" he yelled, pointing his trembling finger at Gimli. He then proceeded to run around the room like a chicken with its head cut off. Aragorn, Merry and Gimli looked on with amusement until Pippin smacked himself head-first into a wall and collapsed.

"He's drunk." Said Aragorn in response to Gimli's questioning look. Legolas continued to wheeze in the background.

"Should have known." Gimli muttered, returning to his pipe.

"Hey, do you have another…" Aragorn began, then stopped as Merry passed him a full pipe. He joined them in leaning up against the wall, gladly receiving a match from Merry. Legolas, finally recovered, joined them and another pipe was offered.

"How many of these do you have!" Legolas asked him in surprise, refusing politely.

"Ever since Isengard, my friend, I keep an ample supply." Mery answered, blowing a particularily large smoke ring. Soon Aragorn and Gimli tried to outdo him and a smoke ring contest commenced with Legolas instituted as the judge.

Meanwhile on the other side of the cavern, Pippin woke up with a start. Already on the floor, he put his ear to the ground then jumped up as he realized what was coming.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" he shrieked. It was a particularily blood-curdling scream but the others still tried to ignore the rising feeling of dread.

"Pippin, would you rate an 8.5 or a 9? On ten, of course." Legolas asked, turning around and pointing at an impressive smoke ring.

"8.5" Pippin answered dimissively, forgetting what he had been about to say. Recovering his train of though, Pippin staggered over and clutched Aragorn's shoulder. Aragorn, in the middle of blowing a smoke ring, started coughing and a beleaguered smoke ring wobbled out the end of his pipe.

"Hey, you ruined it!" Aragorn scolded as Pippin started to shake.

"Aragorn. It's _them_." Forced to admit it, Aragorn sighed and they all started handing back their pipes, except for Gimli.

"Where can we hide _now_?" sighed an exasperated Legolas as he boosted himself off the floor and started brushing off his pants. Aragorn stood up and shrugged while Merry stuffed the pipes into various pockets before getting up.

"Are you daft? Go through the tunnels." Gimli stated, puffing on the pipe. "That one over there leads out and away from here. They'll never find out which tunnel you took."

This sparked a series of hasty preparations which included Pippin's retrieval of his mug ('Sentimental value!' he said), Merry pulling Pippin back before he fell into a well and Legolas fixing his hair. Gimli, however, kept smoking his pipe.

"Let's go!" Aragorn said as he took charge, ushering the others through the tunnel. One by one they each rushed through, Pippin smashing into some walls in the process, until only Aragorn and Gimli were left. When Aragorn turned to Gimli, the dwarf just shook his head.

"Aragorn?" he asked gruffly.

"Yes?" Aragorn replied.

Then Gimli's gruffness gave way to a trace of wistfulness. "What's it like to have fangirls?"

"Like the burning fires of heck." Aragorn answered fervently. A few moments of silence passed before Aragorn turned back to see Gimli's questioning expression and continued. "It's… it's like a swarm. Always lurking behind the next bush, ready for attack. A man can't handle the level of obsession that drives them to hunt in packs."

Gimli nodded, then looked up at Aragorn as gruff as ever. "I'll be your rearguard." Then he looked off into the distance, puffing his pipe. Aragorn clasped his hand on Gimli's shoulder until he turned. Aragorn looked him deep in the eyes before loping off after the others.

Gimli continued to smoke his pipe, waiting alone in the darkness.

* * *

Come on, have some pity and review! Next Chapter coming right up. 


	6. Chapter the Sixth: Bring it on

AN: See? As I promised: two chapters, same day. Just don't go expecting this all the time though, Ann has given me the infectious disease of writing long chapters. She is also helped me come up with the solitary… well, you'll find out. Read, enjoy and REVIEW! Come on, two chapters! Please! When you review, I feel shiney and special and want to write more. attack of the puppy dog eyes

* * *

As Gimli sat smoking his pipe, the noises of the approaching mob grew louder and louder. Sighing, Gimli put down his pipe, removed his axe from where it was strapped on his back and got into position. The fangirls swept through the entrance only to be confronted by Gimli blocking their passage, swinging his axe.

"Sir Dwarf," proclaimed their self-appointed leader, "we request that you let us continue on our quest."

"I could say 'you shall not pass'…" he replied, "but I'll let you through. Wait!" He held out his hand, stopping the approaching horde in their tracks. "One condition."

"We will gladly meet…" their leader began before Gimli interrupted her with a grim laugh.

"I'm not so sure of that. My condition? One of you give me a kiss." He said, leaning on the haft of his axe. As the fangirls suffered in various degrees of shock and disgust, Gimli smiled grimly at his victory. A victory… he would rather not have won.

The flabbergasted girls grew louder in their arguments but then the crowd was shoved aside by a short, stocky girl that made her way to the front of the pack. She wore heavy, sturdy boots and a rough leather tunic that was covered in plates of armor. A winged helmet covered her head of auburn hair and, by some sort of genetic mix-up, she had a full-length beard that matched her hair. She appeared as a short bearded version of the gorgeous Valkyries from Viking mythology. The solitary Gimli fangirl.

"My name is Grundle." She huffed before stepping forward so she was right in front of him. Then she grabbed him by his beard and started to kiss him. All the fangirls managed to run through the opened passage and the kiss still hadn't ended.

In the other room the fangirls managed to approach the tunnels before fighting and confusion broke out. "Where did they go?" "It must be this way!" "No way, it's the one to the left of that one!" "Legolas, where are you?" "Shut-up, he's mine!" "No, he's mine!" "No, I've been engaged to him since…"

"STOP!" All the others fell silent as their leader took control and got their attention. "We can't follow them through these tunnels." She declared and the whole room was thrown into an uproar.

"Then what do we _do_?" wailed one particularly loud fangirl and a chorus of voices joined her.

"Shut-UP! We'll have to spread out above ground, they can't hide from us forever!" Their leader proclaimed. "Onward!" As the fangirls rushed back out of the ruins, Grundle finally let go of Gimli's beard and took a step back, ending the kiss. Even though there was a horde of screaming girls all around them, Gimli saw no-one but the girl standing in front of him. Recovering from his amazement, Gimli reached forward and kissed Grundle back.

§

Meanwhile Eowyn, Arwen and Faramir sat around a table in the kitchen. The house was built in the style of the King's Hall but as a smaller, cozier version with a deep underground cellar with a door that was part of the kitchen floor. Laughing together, Eowyn refilled Arwen and Faramir's cups before filling her own.

"Arwen, I've always wondered. What happened that night to make you get so angry?" Eowyn asked.

"What night?" Arwen asked, sipping her cup of cider.

"The night before you got strict with Aragorn's drinking." Eowyn answered, watching her friend's face carefully.

Arwen choked on her cider and when she recovered she looked sort of… pink. "Well…"

"Yes?" Eowyn leaned forward eagerly, her cup in her hands.

"I dealt with the stench reasonably well, I made sure he didn't get sick at home and that _he_ had to wash those dirty clothes. But that night I went to look for him…" Arwen began before stopping, taking a gulp of cider.

"He was in the pub?" Eowyn asked, trying to encourage her to keep talking. Then Faramir snorted in laughter and Eowyn elbowed him furiously.

"What! I was there!" Faramir stated, rubbing his arm, before subsiding back into laughter. Eowyn quirked an eyebrow at him, then turned to Arwen more curious than ever.

"Come on, tell me!" Eowyn pleaded as Arwen turned redder and redder.

Faramir recovered from laughing and smirked at Arwen with a mischievous look in his eyes before starting to tell the story. "Well, she came to the pub and Aragorn had gotten there just a second ago and hadn't had a chance to get a drink. So when she tried to get him to leave, he tried to wheedle her into a drinking contest. We all cheered and hooted until she accepted." Then he lapsed back into laughter.

"What, Aragorn outdrank her?" Eowyn asked. "Darling, just because I can drink this fool into the ground…" Then Faramir interrupted her.

"Oh nooo, -hahahahahaaaa- Aragorn didn't outdrink her. 'Sides, you and me are _even_." Faramir said, giving her a stern look. "No sir, Aragorn had to-hahahaaa- forfeit the contest. The _funny_ part was…" Faramir had to stop his story since he was laughing so hard. Doubled over in laughter, Faramir fell off the bench he was on onto the floor. Recovering slightly, Faramir finally managed to finish. "The _funny _–hahahahahahahaaaaaa- part was –hehehehehe- what Arwen did once she was drunk!" Faramir then exploded into howls of laughter, rolling around on the floor.

As Eowyn looked on in bemusement, chuckling to herself at Arwen's completely red face, Aragorn sprang up from the cellar. With a roguish smile he swung Arwen into his arms, exclaiming "And _that's_ why I married her!"

"How did you get here!" exclaimed Arwen as Aragorn placed her back on the bench, her blush almost gone.

"We ended up going through a tunnel that led us right downstairs." He replied, kissing her hand. Before Arwen could ask who 'we' was, the rest of the group appeared. Merry and Legolas were eating apples they'd found in the cellar and Pippin was holding his mug. But when Pippin looked up, drunk as he was, to see Arwen he gave a yelp and hid it behind his back.

"I always wondered where that hole in the cellar led to…" mused Faramir. As Eowyn and Faramir greeted their guests (Pippin finding a creative way to shake hands without revealing the mug) Arwen took a deep breath of air… and stopped. Turning to face Aragorn, Arwen yanked him by his shirt and plastered him against the nearest wall.

"You've been _drinking_." Arwen stated angrily as everyone else crossed the room to go over to the staircase.

"Let's go upstairs," Faramir suggested and everyone except Pippin agreed enthusiastically, realizing the value of getting away from an angry Arwen. Pippin, however, chanted 'Fight! Fight! Fight!' as Faramir dragged him up the staircase by his collar.

§

Meanwhile a showdown was taking place in the kitchen, Arwen having released Aragorn from her death-grip. But facing the eminent wrath of his wife, Aragorn frantically cudgeled his brain. You see, Arwen had a habit of picking up the nearest dangerous object in her hands and waving it around with wild hand gestures. The problem was that she was not aware of this habit; her hands did it instinctively. This time Arwen picked up the sword she had left leaning up against the door. Backing away cautiously, Aragorn held his arms out in front of him in an attempt to ward her off.

"Aragorn…" she rumbled, nearly slicing his nose. It was so close Aragorn used one of his hands to check before resuming his defensive position. He kept stumbling away from Arwen with renewed conviction… until his back hit the wall. There seemed no escape except desperation gave Aragorn a brainwave as he prepared one of his most formidable weapon against his wife: his glib tongue.

"You're mad because you know it was a fluke!" he proclaimed, taking the most cocky pose he could while cramped in such a short space: this included leaning in such a way as to distance himself from the sword.

"WHAT!" Arwen yelled, throwing her hands up in the air. Fortunately Aragorn ducked fast enough to leave his face intact. Aragorn reconsidered his possibility of success at the expression of absolute outrage but he carried on.

"Knew it! Couldn't beat me again even if you tried!" Flashing his boldest smirk, Aragorn ignored his instinct for survival and prayed. A few moments passed in which neither one of them moved, both staring each other in the eye. Sweat started beading on his forehead and right before his knees started to quiver, Arwen placed her hands on her hips. Still staring right at him, she flung her sword-less arm sideways to open a cupboard and thunked two mugs on the table.

"We'll settle this once and for all… as long as you can find the booze." Arwen said, dropping the sword and rolling up her sleeves. She looked confusedly at the sword on the ground, wondering how it got there, before gracefully settling herself in a chair.

Winking at his wife, Aragorn looked down and started counting the floorboards. Finally he bent down and gripped one of the boards and pulled it up. Underneath was a cache several feet deep, full of alcohol. Pulling up as many bottles as he could manage, he placed them in the middle of the table. When Arwen gave him a funny look, he shrugged and said, "Last time I was here Faramir and I…" and stopped abruptly as Arwen's hands started twitching.

"Bring it on!"

* * *

There you go, 2 chapters. 'Look down upon your fellow man'… and hand them a review! Okay, lame, but still! Please! 


	7. Chapter the Seventh: And the winner is

Hey everybody, I'm back! About time, eh?

So thank you for all the reviews that finally guilt-ed me into updating. Pickles long ago mentioned a particular song… that will be used in the _next_ chapter. And thanks tpfang56, Frodo's mysterious disappearance (a.k.a. author absent-mindedness) has been turned into part of the plot. Congrats to Isis Flamewing who found my lame attempt at quoting from Les Mis. (There's someone other than me and Ann who know that musical!) As always, Ann got me to actually write and post this.

Also – Bob the Apple was inspired by the poignant story "Lord of the Taters" by The Hobbit Lass, go read it!

* * *

Upstairs the group was playing cards except Pippin was so drunk he kept turning them upside-down and the others pretty much left him to himself. Faramir and Merry were busy staring at each other from behind their cards. "Got any… threes?" Faramir asked Merry suspiciously.

"Go fish!" proclaimed Merry, looking smug. Looking injured, Faramir snatched a card from the deck as he muttered to himself. Eowyn rolled her eyes at their antics, examining her cards with boredom.

"I told you we should have something more interesting," Eowyn sighed, still put out that they had rejected her suggestion of a poker game. (Merry and Faramir had vetoed poker, unwilling to have Eowyn beat them once again.) "This time we could have played _strip poker_!" she added, glancing sideways at Faramir who struggled not to turn red. For a few moments they sat silently waiting for the next person to go.

"Your turn." Faramir finally said, elbowing drunken Pippin who was busy having a serious conversation with his mug. As Pippin was jolted back to reality and actually saw the cards in front of him, Merry suddenly realized something.

"You guys! Do you hear any screams?" he asked, jumping up from his spot and scattering his cards all over the floor as he ran over to the door. Everyone except Pippin followed him, treading as silently as possible. Pressing his ear to the door, Legolas shook his head.

"It could just mean she killed him already," Legolas said, drawing back from the door. "Should we go investigate?"

"I'll go, sir." Pippin proclaimed from behind them, startling everyone and giving Faramir a salute. "If I don't make it back… try and save George." Nobody had any idea who George was but they all nodded solemnly and Faramir clapped Pippin on the back. Placing his mug on his head like a helmet, Pippin slowly eased open the door and started crawling downstairs while the rest of the group peered anxiously through the partially opened door.

§

Pippin crept down the stairs, his body pressed against the wall as he listened to the sounds from the room below. As soon as he heard the clinking of mugs, he forgot all caution and blundered into the room. Sitting at opposite sides of the table were Arwen and Aragorn, several empty bottles from Faramir's stash sprawled across the table as well as some unopened ones. "All clear!" he yelled, heading straight for the nearest open bottle. As the rest of them came downstairs they realized a drinking contest was in progress and Legolas plugged his nose. Muttering to himself about 'of course it would be my beer', Faramir sidled over to Eowyn and slid an arm over her shoulder.

"Want to make a bet? Five back massages say Aragorn wins," he whispered.

"If Arwen wins, you do the laundry for the next month." Eowyn replied, straightening his collar with a wolfish grin. Smiling back at her, trying not to grimace, Faramir wondered if he was in over his head. As Arwen prepared the next set of glasses, Faramir sidled over to Aragorn.

"Hey buddy—I'll bet Arwen wins. If not…" Faramir said, then stopped to think. "If not you go out in the open and stand there until the nearest mob of fangirls gets within 100 meters." Aragorn, who had been telling really bad jokes a moment ago, turned white and froze. All the hobbits had heard the bet and gasped, waiting for Aragorn's answer. While the alcohol had dulled his senses it still took three full minutes, Arwen impatiently tapping on the table the whole time, for him to reply.

"If she doesn't, you owe me your entire supply of booze!" Aragorn replied, gesturing wildly at the secret cache. Merry sighed and Pippin took off his mug/helmet to shake his head in profound regret while Faramir and Aragorn shook hands. Legolas just shook his head in dismay as he curled up to sleep in the corner, putting earplugs in his ears.

"Today we honor a casualty in the field of battle. Aragorn, we mourn your defeat due to the glorious but judgement-impairing alcohol." Pippin said sadly, shaking his head and turning to his mug. "He never even had a chance, George!" As Pippin sniffled loudly, Merry passed him a handkerchief. After blowing his nose, Pippin absent-mindedly stuck it in a pocket and picked up the nearest bottle of booze.

"Well at least I'll be on the winning side no matter what!" Faramir whispered to himself. Then he looked over at Aragorn, trying not to fall off his chair from the after effects of the hand-shake, and compared him to Arwen who had lost _none_ of her intensity. Sighing to himself, Faramir resigned himself to laundry but laughed inside, thinking of the look on Aragorn's face when he became sober and was asked to repay his bet.

"Wait a second… where's Frodo?" asked Merry, looking around. In the original confusion of exiting the cellar only to retreat upstairs, Frodo had indeed been left behind.

"Come on, George! You'll make lieutenant yet!" replied Pippin, once again putting his mug on his head and getting on his hands and knees. "Forward ho!" he cried, opening the cellar door and heading down… until he slipped and fell down the entire staircase. Merry glanced at the open door for a few seconds before sighing and following him down in a less painful manner as he heard a mug rolling across the floor.

§

Having descended the staircase, Merry searched for a lantern in the dim light coming from the open cellar door. Finding one, he reached inside his jacket for the matches he kept stored along with his pipes and lit it. Holding out the lantern as he looked for Pippin, Merry stumbled and almost fell over. Looking down, Merry sighed as he saw what he had tripped over.

"Ooooowww… Should we surrender, George?" Pippin moaned, followed by a pause. "You're right, George: we'll never surrender! Onward!" As Pippin valiantly tried to sit up he lay back and moaned, feeling around him for his mug. Probing more and more urgently, Pippin bolted upright as he realized he'd lost his mug.

"What's wrong?" asked Merry as Pippin yanked away the lantern and searched frantically.

"We've lost George in the field of battle!" Pippin exclaimed desperately as Merry reached forward to pat him on the shoulder, reminiscing. Last time they had gotten drunk together, Merry had grown quite attached to the apple he had affectionately named 'Bob'.

Then Merry paused for a moment and stroked his chin.

"What ever _did_ happen to Bob?" he muttered, trying to remember. Meanwhile Pippin was busy crawling across the floor in search of George, patting his fingers against the floor. Getting nearer and nearer to the tunnel, Pippin suddenly felt something furry beneath his fingers.

"Ack!" he yelped, stumbling backwards and bumping into something else.

"What is it, Pip?" called Merry, shocked out of his reverie, as he took the lantern and walked in the direction of the noise.

"George!" Pippin replied, cradling his mug in his arms, as Merry continued to approach. Carrying the lantern in front of him, the first thing Merry spotted was a pair of hairy feet. Frodo was curled up in the end of the tunnel, gazing blankly into the distance and twitching. Muttering 'where's Sam when you need him', Merry hauled Frodo to his feet while nudging Pippin with his foot.

§

Meanwhile the pressure was mounting upstairs as the alcohol supply got lower and lower. Faramir and Eowyn watched anxiously in their seats as Aragorn and Arwen drank shot after shot, Faramir quietly hoping that the contest would end before his booze did. Legolas, however, was asleep in the corner and muttering in his sleep. Aragorn and Arwen were staring at each other as they reached for another glass when the cellar door creaked open. Panting, Merry and Pippin mounted the stairs, half-dragging Frodo behind them.

"What did we miss?" Pippin asked, pulling up a chair near Faramir and placing his mug back on his head. After plopping Frodo into the nearest chair to twitch quietly, Merry pulled up a chair to join them.

"So far they've emptied two and a half bottles." Eowyn replied as Faramir put his head in his hands and groaned.

"Impressive…" Pippin muttered as he reached for the nearest empty bottle and tipped the last few drops in his mouth, one hand holding the bottle and the other balancing George.

Meanwhile Arwen and Aragorn both reached for their next drink, Arwen wobbling a bit while Aragorn was ready to fall over. While Arwen had started out the contest by daintily sipping, now she raised her mug and gulped until she thunked the empty mug on the table with a smirk. Aragorn smirked right back at her as he lunged for his mug, missing the first few times. Finally grabbing hold of the handle, Aragorn started to chug as everyone watched on. Halfway through his body slumped and his head thunked down on the bench, the rest of his beer spilling across the table. Pippin quickly scrambled over to lick up the spill on the table as Eowyn went up to Arwen and proudly took her hand and thrust it in the air.

"We have a winner!" she declared, as Merry laughed and clapped Faramir on the shoulder and Aragorn struggled up from the bench only to sink back down groaning. Legolas, however, had been woken up by having beer spill over his face and was not happy. As he grabbed a cloth from the table, he muttered something about dry-cleaning.

"At least _some_ of my supply is left!" sighed Faramir, not looking forward to the laundry. Then suddenly there was a big banging noise and Frodo squealed, falling off his chair and into Legolas.

"Canon-fire!" yelled Pippin, ducking underneath the table with George.

"Hobbit feet in my face! Not even a clothespin can block _that _smell," wailed Legolas, but everyone else was occupied with bigger problems.

"It's the cellar-door!" yelled Merry. "Quick, pile up the benches next to the door!" Pippin scrambled up, tugging the bench behind him as Faramir helped him. Then suddenly Faramir encountered some difficulty as the noise got even louder and Pippin started tugging the bench the other way.

"What are you doing?!" Faramir yelled, letting go of the first bench and just hauling another one over to Merry.

"Frontal assault, sir!" exclaimed Pippin, shoving the bench up against the front door which also had someone pounding on it.

"We don't have enough furniture!" Merry added, hauling several of the chairs to the cellar door that Faramir was frantically shoving against to keep it from opening.

"George?" gasped Pippin, bracing his whole body against the front door. Every time the door was pounded on his body moved. "I just wanted to tell you, if we don't get through this…" he began before stopping, overcome with emotion.

"Aragorn, come help!" exclaimed Faramir, kicking him in the arm while Eowyn ran over to help Pippin. Wobbling a bit, Arwen also joined the forces trying to hold the front door. Eowyn smiled bleakly at her as they both pressed their bodies against the door. Frodo, untangling himself from Legolas, stumbled over and pressed his hands against the cellar door. Once Frodo was out of his way, Legolas also recognized the desperate circumstances and headed toward the front door despite his desperate desire to take a bath. And as Faramir continued kicking, Aragorn tumbled onto the floor and lifted his head. Realizing the desperate situation, he tried to stand but fell back down. Clutching the floorboards, he crawled over to the cellar door and sat up against the door, pushing with all his might. The pounding grew louder and louder, each of them straining against the different doors.

"…I want you to know, I've never served with more honourable souls!" Pippin finished, almost in tears, as the inferno raged about him and he cradled George in his arms.

"Amen to that," whispered Merry.

* * *

Well, how's that for my customary cliffhanger? Coming up next chapter: Sam makes his appearance and Gandalf reappears just in time to resume his occupation of 'bearer of bad news'. So read and review, everybody! If this will help, reviews actually make me write faster. (Hey, I'll resort to bribery!)

Ann: Over two thousand words!!!!! (NOT including commentary!) You are _definitely _rubbing off on me!

Pickles: Don't worry, the song is coming right up. Just try and keep it a surprise for a little longer.


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